Thursday, June 9
I don't have many memories of Connor on the outside. He lived for about 43 hours. In that time I only visited him a handful of times in the NICU. (I've said before, after he was born, I didn't even consider the chance of him or Colby dying, so I didn't even think for a second that our time was limited.) I don't know the exact number of minutes that I was actually with my little boy- but I know it wasn't much. And I regret that more than anything else in this world.
But I do have very distinct memories of his features. Unfortunately the best view I ever got of it was after he had passed away and all the tape and machines and wires were gone. But I can so clearly remember his fine lips, his dark eyes, and his small pointed nose. He had long fingers and toes that reminded me of my own "monkey toes".
Now as I feed Sydney late at night I can't help but see Connor. They look so very much alike-- more so than I see either one of them looking like Colby or Johnny or I.
I can't help but think how very different our lives would be right now had Connor lived. Who knows if we'd have our amazing girls. Who knows where we would be, what Connor would look like, or how crazy life would have turned out.
It's one of those things that nags at you... on the one hand, I want so very badly for Connor to be here with us, to make our family complete. But on the other hand, my family as I know it probably wouldn't be if Connor were alive. It's as if my heart has to make a choice to be okay without Connor to be so perfectly happy with my amazing girls. And I'm not okay without him, but at the same time I couldn't imagine life without Sydney and Zoe.
I know it's not my decision to make, but it still hurts.